Fixations
by withcatatonia
Summary: Oneshot, short and sweet. "I don't really want to leave, I want to stay here where I'm surrounded with second hand smoke that is probably killing me faster than any of the actual smokers, with a girl whose lips taste like death and whose eyes will be the death of me." Edward can't live without her eyes, Bella can't live without her cigarettes.


**Disclaimer: I literally don't own anything. Nothing. **

**Songs Mentioned:**

**Riptide by Vance Joy. It's right here: www . youtube watch ? v= iUI5uLysKaE. It's a great song, have a listen.**

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**Fixations**

The smoke from her mouth smelled exactly how I expected it: foul, with a slight tinge of menthol that I knew she craved. She once described the smell to me as, "delightfully disgusting". We were an odd couple, standing here in the sidewalk, her holding her cigarette like it was the last coke in the desert and me, staring at her eyes like I want to rip them out of her head and take them home.  
I always get violent thoughts if its past ten.  
"Your eyes are creepily yellow," I tell her, even though I'd much rather describe it as a warm chocolate with 20 carat gold sprinkles all over it, but I'm afraid that'll sound too feminine.  
"I've been told," she says. She held her cigarette right in the space between her fingers, flush against her skin.  
"You should quit." The guy smoking behind her glances quickly at my empty fingers and looks away.  
Bella took a drag and exhaled slowly, "I know, I am quitting. I'm trying to. Right now."  
"Quitting as in-?"  
"As in, in my mind I'm quitting, but, well..." she lifts her hand and waves her cancer stick in a circle. She grins at me, and I feel it all the way to my bones.  
"If you call a spade a heart, it will eventually be a heart?"  
"That didn't make any sense but yes, exactly like that. I need it too much, with school and shit and you know, everything," she shrugs like everything was nothing. I look at her glum eyes again and feel my face falling inch by inch, "If you don't try to find an escape in this world, it's gonna eat you alive."  
"Maybe you should try knitting."  
"I would, but it would be too sexy."  
We both burst out laughing, and she took another drag. "Yeah, you, sitting there, holding two sticks instead of one, knitting me a sweater...I'm getting hard just thinking about it."  
She was grinning her big grin, the one which spreads her nostrils, something that, in my humble opinion makes her even more attractive, and says nothing. The cigarette was at its end, and she flicked it to the sidewalk where it burned until it died. "I wish I could stop," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. I looked back to her, "Cold turkey, you know? I've been testing myself. Sometimes, I go three...four days without it and I'd be just fine, and then something happens...I fail an exam, or I look in a mirror and see what I see, and something inside me just snaps, you know? Suddenly, I need it. Suddenly, I want it more than anything."  
I smile, "Maybe, you haven't experienced enough of anythings to really tell."  
Bella smiled back, "Maybe. I am, after all, a total virgin."  
"I didn't mean it like that." I totally did. I have this odd, vanilla porn fantasy of being on top of her, her eyes wide open as we fuck each other into oblivion. I have a fetish for eyes. Specifically, hers.  
"I like to think you did, Edward." she says, "It's actually something I'm a little curious about. I was listening to a song the other day and it got me thinking. Maybe, maybe, if I had sex, you know, I'd like it so much that cigarettes would just be a passing thought."  
I can feel my blood rushing south.  
"I'd imagine you'd be a lot more addictive than nicotine." she was like, and that did it. I looked at her then, this girl with circles around her eyes, and wondered what it would be like to have non-porny sex with her. I imagine it'd be pretty good, probably a lot messy, but God those eyes, with those golden flecks...God. And those tits. I also have this nagging feeling that her oral fixation extended to...oral.  
She was grinning that grin again, like she knew exactly what I was thinking. I coughed, trying to retrieve my voice from her pussy, "What's the song?" I asked her.  
"_Riptide_ by Vance Joy."  
The song started playing in my head instantly. "_I love you when you're singing that song and I got a lump in my throat cause you're gonna sing the words wrong_?" I sang, my hands clapping lightly for a beat.  
"Yeah, I guess I got a dirty mind," she chuckled. "You got a great voice, by the way."  
I ignored her compliment, "You guess you got a dirty mind?"  
"Shut up," she says, still smiling, "dick."  
I took her hand, "We should go back inside. They're probably waiting for us.  
I think of Rosalie and Emmet, drunk on the bar, PDA-ing the night away because of a stupid "ice" Disney movie, and of Alice and Jasper sitting underneath our table, in their own little world of weird and I think of Victoria downing all of our alcohol because she doesn't like dealing with us sober and I think to myself, I don't really want to leave, I want to stay here where I'm surrounded with second hand smoke that is probably killing me faster than any of the actual smokers, with a girl whose lips taste like death and whose eyes will be the death of me.  
Bella made no move to leave, squeezing my hand gently, "Probably."

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-fixations-  
**I don't know if I'm doing this right. Being a Lit major is fucking with my writing. I suddenly feel the need to go Hemingway all the time and make you guys "read between the lines". Tell me if it's good/bad/horrible-you-should-stop-writing?**  
**Beta'd by my best bitch, Nikki. (All mistakes are hers LOL just kidding babe! Thanks for this.)**  
**Thanks for reading, everyone.**  
**R&R. With love, W.**


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